


My Sleipnir Will Go On

by fiordilatte



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward First Times, Dorks, Fluff, Hickeys & Turtlenecks, M/M, Makeup Sex, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 19:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3862510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiordilatte/pseuds/fiordilatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inaho wants the <s>Troyar</s><b>D</b>.  Slaine is just so embarrassed.  A comprehensive strategy guide on How to Uke, by Kaizuka Inaho.  Results 97% guaranteed.</p><p>Spoilers, Inaho is terrible at sex and Slaine is kind of maybe okay at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. instruction booklet

**[1. instruction booklet]**

“So do you, um, want me to lie down?”

Inaho shakes his head. “No, I lie down. You’re on top. You’re taller. And older.”

“I really don’t think that’s how it works!” Slaine protests. He’s already blushing, a bright pink tinge colouring his cheeks.

“We’re just following basic rules,” Inaho returns, still straight-faced as ever. “You also have a bigger -”

A choking sound. “Please shut up.”

It dawns on him, now. “...Are you scared?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

Slaine frowns, anxiety creasing his pale face. “I don’t... I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I won’t be,” he says, which is about as much comfort as he knows how to provide. Give or take.

“This isn’t a joke, Inaho.” He can see that Slaine is doing that eye twitch thing again. “This is your first time ever, right? What if it’s really bad?” There’s still so much nervousness in the blond’s words, and Inaho vaguely wonders what he’s done to make him so anxious.

“We’ll practice,” he responds. That’s the logical answer. Surely Slaine can see that. Inaho shifts on his bed and loosens his tie (he’s noticed that this is always where Slaine struggles the most). “We went through the instructions. It’s easier than calculus.”

“That’s really easy for you, though.”

“Yeah,” the brunet supplies helpfully. He hands Slaine his tablet. “Here’s a checklist of the things I want you to do to me.”

Slaine stares at the list, the horror in his expression increasing as he reads through each very detailed line item, complete with footnotes. “I can try to do _half_ of those.”

“I’ll use my tie as a blindfold,” Inaho suggests, motioning with the red piece of cloth. He’s committed to the cause, ready to be bound and gagged -

“But…” The other boy reddens, and sets the tablet down at the foot of Inaho's bed. “I want to see your face.”

Perhaps the bondage was too much, to start. Slaine may need to level up. “All right,” he concedes.

Their first time together is good, Inaho thinks. Well within the parameters of his expectations. No surprises - nothing he can’t handle, anyway. A controlled experiment.

Slaine is especially clumsy today, his lips uncertain against Inaho’s, his tongue hesitant as it darts out to taste him.

Inaho doesn’t mind at all.

He looks up at the older boy, observes the flushed face and tousled hair, takes one of the sweaty hands in his own. “It’s your move, Slaine.” All the preparations have been made, and it’s now just a matter of logistics, really. Placement. Put all the pieces on the table and make Slaine figure the rest out.

They’ve never gone further than kissing and hand holding; Slaine always pulls away before anything else can happen, and makes up flimsy excuses that are obviously lies. The one time Inaho’s actually seen him naked was when he walked in on him getting out of the shower. (For the record: the towel had slipped and Slaine had flailed and Inaho had taken precisely fourteen high definition pictures as the opportunity presented itself. One of them is his current phone background.)

Kaizuka Inaho has long since discovered, in their three months, eight days, and twelve hours of dating, that making Slaine Troyard uncomfortable is the biggest turn on he’s ever experienced. Or, rather, the only turn on, if his rather barren history of sexual activity is anything to go by. Today he is very turned on, and Slaine doesn’t get to run away.

He’s had to do a lot of studying, just for this. Watching the perspiration bead from Slaine’s forehead as his partner concentrates intensely on pleasuring him is the most rewarding part of this whole project.

Inaho lies back and lets Slaine touch him tentatively, the other boy’s hands clammy and trembling as they move to unbutton his shirt.

“Is this okay?!” his boyfriend exclaims, still apprehensive.

He nods, then traces his fingers along Slaine’s jaw. “I wrote out all the steps for you.”

Slaine makes a face. “They’re very specific.”

“Do your best, then,” he challenges.

The other boy places a palm on Inaho’s chest and slowly inches his hand over to fondle his nipple, pinches at the sensitive flesh and rolls it between his fingers around it to tease it to a hard point. Slaine furtively runs his tongue around the skin, then places his lips over it and starts to suck gently. His mouth is hot and he’s eager to please, and there’s a faint sense that he might have done this before. That’s good - experience is important.

Inaho doesn’t feel too much at first but he can’t fault Slaine, because he’s trying _so hard_ and that’s all he wants. He’s not sure what sort of reaction Slaine expects to get, so he lets out the tiny moan that he was carefully practicing last night.

 _“Slaine...!”_ The absolute perfect sex moan, achieved through hours of meticulous research and data analysis.

The other boy doesn’t seem very convinced. “Are.. are you faking that?” Slaine demands, eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’s bright red, all the way to the tips of his ears.

Inaho just stares back innocently. He doesn’t know what else to say.

Slaine sighs and trails kisses along Inaho’s chest, moving on to the other nipple to cautiously repeat the same motions.

But it really is starting to feel good, and Slaine is following his instructions, and soon enough a few of the sounds he’s making he didn’t even know he was capable of. It’s a slight deviation from what he’s predicted, but it won’t change the end result.

He nudges his boyfriend. “Teeth.”

Slaine lifts his mouth, and the sudden rush of cold air makes Inaho shiver. “Next time, all right?” the blond stammers, running his warm hands along Inaho’s small waist. “I had no idea you liked that kind of thing!”

“I read about it online,” he explains, “and built a database to filter for the best techniques.”

“You’re so strange,” Slaine says, with that awkward little laugh of his, and bends down to peck him on the forehead (this is not nearly as dirty as what Inaho has been aiming for, but it’ll do).

“And you can put it in, you know. I’ve been ready for a while,” Inaho adds nonchalantly. To prompt Slaine, he undoes his belt and lets it fall to the floor, then slides his pants off in one smooth motion. “I got supplies for you, too.”

The blond lets out a strangled sort of noise. There’s no escape. “...Aaah! Okay! Let me know if it hurts! I’ll stop whenever you tell me to.”

He presses himself into the mattress and looks up expectantly as Slaine shakily undresses the rest of the way for him.

“You look good,” Inaho remarks, for the sole purpose of making him blush.

He’s done the laundry specifically for today, made sure everything is immaculate and one hundred percent prepared for this moment. The sheets are five hundred thread count linen, and he’s even used extra fabric softener on them. The fresh smell of clean sheets mingles with the warm musky scent that clings to Slaine, making a combination that’s enough to push Inaho to his limit, though he doesn’t show any outward signs.

The bed creaks as the other boy starts to move, his face set with determination. Inaho feels him slide in slowly, nervously, bit by bit. A small, but definitely audible, gasp escapes him, and he instinctively reaches to grab Slaine’s arm, searching for something to hold on to.

He can hear the blond muttering, “Oh my god oh my god,” under his breath in trepidation and it’s that clear self-consciousness that makes Inaho want him even more. “Are you okay? Do you need a pillow? W-We can switch, if you like. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Inaho grips Slaine’s wrist a little more firmly, trying to reassure them both that this is exactly right, that this is exactly how they are supposed to be. “I’m fine. Stop second guessing yourself.”

He regains his composure as he adjusts, opens his legs wider and pulls his knees toward his chest as the older boy makes slow shallow thrusts.

One, two, three...

Slaine shudders on top of him, going limp as he climaxes. “Inaho, _Inaho_ , I… I can’t....” The blond wilts and collapses next to him, a flustered bundle of nerves on the sheets.

“You’re quick,” says Inaho. An observation.

A deep blush, as the other boy makes eye contact. “I can’t help it! You’re just so…” Slaine trails off. “It wasn’t any good, was it?” There’s a trace of dejection in the low voice. “I’m sorry.”

He leans in for a kiss. “You shouldn’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I like you,” Slaine mumbles. “A lot.”

Inaho holds his hand tight, puts his ear to Slaine’s hammering chest. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~uh sex in a _bed_? what is this I don’t understand~~  
>  Thank you for reading and have a wonderful day! And thanks to all the new friends for your encouragement ^_^


	2. pajama pants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> awkward first blowjob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I didn't get kicked out of the fandom for this title? :') In retrospect I seriously should have saved it for Inaho x Sleipnir though.. darn.

**[intermission: sex tips with Calm Craftman!]**

Calm crosses his arms and paces the study room. “That’s your perfect sex moan? Really, Inaho? No wonder he was scared. Have you learned nothing?” He chuckles weakly. “I can’t believe we actually discuss this stuff. It’s kind of weird.”

Inaho shrugs. “It’s easier to ask you, instead of asking Yuki-nee. Slaine didn’t even want to be on top. Is that unusual?”

“Uh. You’re the bottom?” Calm sounds incredulous. “But that guy’s so nice!”

“Of course I’m the bottom,” he says evenly, flipping through Calm’s lab notes. “There’s a height rule to follow.” He jots down a few corrections and redoes his friend’s calculations for him, then turns around in his chair to face the other boy.

“A height rule,” Calm echoes, mid-pace. The blond tilts his head. “That’s pretty old school of you.”

“I like to see the struggle,” Inaho responds. “Your math was wrong here, by the way. So what do you recommend?” He trusts Calm’s judgment, because he usually does nothing but read porn in class, which makes him rather qualified.

Calm scratches his head. “Go for a blowjob,” his friend says knowledgeably. “Like in that video I sent you. And give me my magazines back!”

He owes Calm a total of four lab writeups, now.

* * *

**[2. pajama pants]**

Having Slaine stay over is always fun, but Inaho doesn’t really know how to put it into words.

He’s fascinating because he’s so different, the vibrancy and emotion to Inaho’s apathy and calculation. Maybe it’s in the way Slaine’s eyes light up every time he sees Inaho, or the way he gets so passionate about animal biology, or the way he turns red all time. It’s… what is he supposed call it? What does everyone else say?

Cute?

Inaho occasionally wishes he could be even a fraction as expressive as his boyfriend, but he can’t quite figure out how. His words constantly come out stiff and detached, and it’s just something he’s gotten used to. Other than the odd comment, no one really seems to mind, and it doesn’t affect his station in life. In fact, it makes most things a lot easier. He doesn’t get stressed out or distracted, and he’s able to get straight to the point. Inaho is simply not the kind of person who runs into issues.

Slaine sometimes tells him, though, in that shy, bashful manner, that he’s hard to understand. It doesn’t hurt Inaho’s feelings, because that’s the natural response, and it’s true, but it makes him wonder if it’s even possible for them to be closer. He can’t say it outright, but he doesn’t think that losing Slaine would be the optimal course of action.

Tonight he holds his boyfriend’s hand and listens to his even breathing and tries to show him _somehow_ that he does care, in his own way. He has all the steps planned out, and he wants to ensure that their relationship is at its ideal level. It’s almost like a class change. He’s not a virgin anymore.

Inaho gives Slaine’s hand a light squeeze. “Are you thinking about me?”

“No,” says Slaine, but he squeezes back, and turns to face him with a sleepy smile.

“All that sex we could be having?” he deadpans.

“N-No!”

Liar. Inaho goes for the most sultry pose he can possibly muster at two in the morning: lying on his side with half-lidded eyes, one hand propped seductively under his chin, lips forming a textbook pout.

He’s deduced that there is nothing wrong with doing this in his polka dot pajamas, but Slaine just laughs at him - soft and affectionate and maybe a little teasing.

“What?” Inaho says.

“I’ve never seen that look on your face. It doesn’t really suit you.”

He reverts to his default blank stare. “I thought you might prefer me like that. What do you want me to be, then?”

“Being yourself would be a good start,” Slaine suggests drowsily.

“That’s too easy. Predictable. There’s something else I need to do.”

“But I like you for _you_ ,” the blond insists, with finality.

Inaho is dismayed, and slightly confused. “That was corny,” he accuses.

“I’m tired,” Slaine retorts, then blushes anyway.

The brunet weighs his options, and turns to the obvious solution. “Well, I’m going to give you a blowjob,” he announces, very seriously.

“Inaho, not now,” Slaine implores, trying to push him away. When Inaho proves to be immovable, the blond rolls over to face the window, hugging his knees to his chest and curling up into a ball. “Go to sleep.”

“Why do you pretend that you don’t want it?” Inaho doesn’t understand. He’s sure he’s read somewhere that this is the next step. Success rate, ninety-seven percent.

Slaine’s voice is muffled. “You’re just doing this to embarrass me.”

Partially true. He does want to see how red Slaine will turn, after all. But more importantly, he also has a point to prove.

“So?” He pulls the blanket off of his boyfriend and continues his ambush.

“So, I don’t want to be embarrassed,” Slaine replies, while making a feeble attempt to take the comforter back.

“Calm said this is…” he thinks for a moment, then boots up the sentence in his brain, “something every guy wants. And that it would be good for our relationship. A necessary step.” He drops the blanket to the floor.

“Calm is a pervert! Why would you even ask him? And it’s not necessary!” Slaine says hastily. “At least, it doesn’t have to be with us.”

Inaho leans into Slaine, guides his hands along the familiar figure, presses soft kisses to the curve of the older boy’s neck. He sucks at the delicate skin and Slaine relents, arching into him as he makes his mark.

“But it could be,” he counters, hooking his fingers under the waistband of his boyfriend’s green-striped pajama pants -

 _“Stop.”_ It’s the huskiest syllable he’s ever heard Slaine say, his voice just above a whisper.

So naturally he leans in further, tries to adopt his own sensual murmur. He ends up with the usual analytical tone, but he hopes Slaine will get it. “Not when you talk like that.”

“I really don’t want -”

“Don’t lie to me.” He doesn’t mean to sound so abrupt, but he isn’t sure how else to get his point across.

The battle won, Inaho meets no further resistance as he reaches into Slaine’s underwear.

“You’re already hard.”

Slaine looks too mortified to say anything.

Something clicks in his head. “Is that why your pants are so baggy? Do you always get like this?”

“Only with you…” the blond says, very quietly.

He runs his hand along Slaine’s cock, and the older boy gasps as he surrenders to Inaho’s curious touch. “So,” the brunet affirms, with a sage little nod, “all the time.”

Slaine doesn’t deny it, for a change. “You don’t need to do this, though. I’m happy with the way things are.”

“There’s room for improvement,” he says, settling in at the edge of the bed and kneeling between his boyfriend’s legs. “Besides, I think we’ve taken it slow enough. Did you know that the average lead time for sex is five dates?” He runs his fingers lightly over Slaine’s cock as he mulls over statistics. “We should have done it on the first date.”

Slaine moans as Inaho continues his advances, lifting his hips for easier access. He’s completely pliable in Inaho’s hands, melting into every touch and caress. “That’s... terribly forward of you, isn’t it?”

“Before the date, I mean,” he corrects. “I’d rather be upfront about it.”

“Mhm,” his boyfriend replies, most likely to humour him. Inaho applies more pressure, to show that he’s not playing around. “Nn...! Could you stop now?”

“No chance.”

“What if your sister hears?” Slaine is still looking for excuses, but Inaho has had enough.

“I’m not the one who’s going to be embarrassed,” he says briskly.

Inaho presses his lips to the tip, almost as if to kiss it, then slowly moves his tongue across and has saliva swirl around the head as he laps at the precum that oozes out. So that’s what Slaine tastes like. Slaine might be tired but he’s still responsive, stiffening and letting out quiet gasps when Inaho licks him in his most sensitive areas.

“Look at me.” Eye contact is key.

Slaine shifts to prop himself up on a pillow, and grudgingly brings his gaze up to meet Inaho’s. “You’re unbelievable,” the blond mutters, but he doesn’t fight it any further.

From the corner of his eye he sees the other boy’s hands curl into fists at his sides, and he feels the blond tremble beneath him as he massages the tip of Slaine’s cock with his tongue. It’s his first time doing this for anyone, and he’s finding the hard way that studying about it isn’t quite enough to make him an expert in practice. (It isn’t like the videos at all - he’ll need to renegotiate some terms with Calm.)

Still, the contented humming sounds that Slaine is making let him know that he’s at least on the right track. Inaho tries to take him in as deep as he can, sucking hard and adding more friction with his fingers. His jaw hurts a little but he doesn’t let up, which is a testament to his stubbornness, he supposes. But he knows that this probably isn’t Slaine’s first, so he has to at least meet the precedent. Fortunately, the other boy is easy to please. It could have been a lot more challenging if it was someone else.

This is turning out to be a lot messier than what he expected, and Inaho is much more aroused than he thought he’d be, lost somewhere in Slaine’s scent and the heat of his body as he bobs his head along the shaft. Hearing Slaine’s laboured breaths makes him stiffen a bit himself, and there’s something oddly satisfying about sucking his boyfriend and knowing that he likes it. Inaho tries out a new moan this time, subtler and more genuine, lets saliva strings dribble out of his mouth and down Slaine’s length.

It’s so wet and unpracticed that Inaho thinks even he might be getting a bit flustered after all, because he’s never been inherently _bad_ at something. But he forces himself to concentrate, eventually manages to find a rhythm that makes Slaine mewl and writhe, and gets the other boy exactly where he wants him.

The light is dim but he knows that expression, knows what it entails. Slaine’s face is glistening with sweat, and he’s biting his lower lip while trying to stifle high-pitched moans.

So Inaho stops, slides his mouth off of Slaine’s cock with a little pop, always ready to tease.

Slaine bucks his hips upward, which Inaho assumes is instinctual; then, realizing that nothing is happening, gives the brunet a confused look.

“Inaho?”

The word registers in his head again, more clearly this time. _Cute._ Now he needs to implement the second phase.

“I’m not going to let you cum,” he finds himself saying, though his tone hasn’t changed. He allows a fleeting, almost-smirk to grace his lips, then mechanically recites the next line. “Not... until you ask.” He isn’t used to saying things like that, but apparently it’s part of the process. If this is what it takes, Inaho has absolutely no qualms. Although he might need to work on his delivery - another thing to practice.

He’s never seen his boyfriend turn that particular hue of red.

Some strange part of him wants to hear Slaine beg, so he can preserve that memory and replay it in his head again and again. He’ll have to invest in a better camera and a capture card for future bedroom endeavours.

It takes Slaine about thirty seconds, but it’s worth the wait. “...Inaho, please.”

He pumps Slaine leisurely with one hand, feels the other boy’s hardness and marvels a bit at how he’s the direct cause of it. “What was that?” he whispers, breath ghosting over the tip of Slaine’s cock.

A low groan, though whether it’s out of frustration or desire Inaho can’t quite gauge. But he does know that he likes how it sounds.

“Pleasefinishwhatyouweredoing.”

Inaho feels himself smile, ever so slightly. “You’re mine.” A statement of fact.

Slaine giggles.

He pauses, and sits straight up as he struggles to comprehend his boyfriend. “Why is that funny?” Did he make a mistake?

Slaine’s shaking with mirth as he leans forward to press their heads together. “I always have been, Inaho. You don’t have to do all this just to prove it.”

He has to take a moment to let it sink in. “Oh.”

Slaine kisses him on the cheek, pulls him into a warm embrace. “Good.”

Then, even though he’s certain it’ll ruin the mood, Inaho adds, “Do you want me to swallow?”

Just making sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slaine style won the bj poll 5-4 (thanks so much to everyone who participated ahhh!), so I did my best to nerf Godnaho’s skillz. This fic is really dumb but I’ll own it :) Have an awesome day!  
> 


	3. watermelon party // canadian wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything escalates! well kind of.

**[intermission: sex tips with Matsuribi Kisaki!]**

“Why are you asking me? I don’t have anything to tell you.”

Inaho notices that Kisaki has skipped over the typical ‘you’re weird, Kaizuka’ part of the interrogation, and opted for a more direct refusal to answer. He respects that, but it doesn’t change anything.

“You know tricks,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world (it is). He stares deep into Kisaki’s eyes, trying to get a read. “I need to collect data from as many sample sources as I can.”

“It feels wrong to talk about this at school,” the older student mutters, tying his cardigan around his waist. “Where’s Yutaro when you need him….”

Inaho follows Kisaki down the hallway, intent on getting answers. He knows the other boy has experience, though he’s not quite as vocal about it as his other friends. As someone with limited knowledge in the area, Inaho has decided that it would be in his best interests to acquire proper field research.

“Just tell me what you’d do,” the brunet persists, walking quickly to match the taller boy’s strides. “I’m having trouble getting further with Slaine.”

A sidelong glance, punctuated by an eye-roll. “You aren’t very romantic, are you.”

Inaho shakes his head. “He always thinks I'm faking it when I try, so there’s no point. I need to develop better technical skills first. Or do you think candlelight and roses will really work?”

“You could just let him take charge, if you want to change it up,” Kisaki responds, nonplussed. “There aren’t any _tricks_ , Inaho! And even if there were, I don’t have any.”

Clearly untrue. Even Slaine is a better liar than that.

“That’s never going to work. You’re in communications, right?” Kisaki was on Slaine’s presentation team once, which is why Inaho knows.

His acquaintance leans against the wall. “Your point being?”

“Can’t you apply that here?” Inaho asks. “He needs more prompting.”

“Uh,” says Kisaki, who seems to be having an extraordinarily difficult time with this, “you could... jerk off in front of him? Which has nothing to do with my major.”

A conspirational nod, as they part ways. “Thanks, Matsuribi-san.”

He’s not even sure what that meant. He has a lot of studying to do this week.

 

* * *

 

**[3. watermelon party]**

The instant Inaho opens the door to Slaine’s apartment he is immediately jumped on.

He attempts to assess the situation, though he’s quickly learning that it’s a little difficult to concentrate when his twenty-one year old animal-biology-major-boyfriend has him pushed up against the wall.

Slaine’s lips are sticky and sweet with the lingering tastes of watermelon and alcohol, his mouth warm and wet and welcoming. Inaho indulges himself, because Slaine smells nice, which is a relatively logical reason at the time, and tilts his head up to kiss the other boy back.

“I really want you now…” Slaine murmurs hoarsely, his words almost slurring together as he grabs Inaho by the hand. He allows Slaine to lead him over to the couch (where they’ve done it, twice, after a lot of coaxing), and sits down on the plush upholstery as he wonders exactly what is happening.

Inaho peers up at the blond’s face. “Are you drunk?” he asks calmly.

“Only a little! My presentation was really bad,” Slaine says, by way of explanation. “So we went for a few drinks after.”

“You're good at public speaking, though,” he responds, “even when you’re nervous.”

“Not today,” the older boy mutters, moving to straddle him and press a fierce kiss to his mouth. “Can I please just forget about it?”

Three minutes following Inaho’s arrival, Slaine’s shirt has already come off, and his own is in the process of being unbuttoned very very fast. Slaine has never taken the initiative before, so this is a bit of a surprise to Inaho, who’s much more used to being the one in charge. He doesn’t have much time to ponder, however, as the blond finishes wrestling with the buttons on his shirt and manages to get him half-undressed, as well.

Slaine’s hands travel to unzip his jeans, and that’s when Inaho remembers. His voice is flat as he reaches to redo his boyfriend’s pants.

“You can’t.”

“Inaho!” Slaine sounds unbelievably frustrated, looks unbelievably attractive at all five feet and eleven inches of messy blond hair and pale lean muscle and pleading blue eyes and thick dark eyelashes.

It is rather pleasing, in Inaho’s opinion, to know that Slaine is all _his_.

His boyfriend. No one else’s.

“Y-You’re not serious!” Even when Slaine is agitated, his low voice still sends a tiny thrill down Inaho's spine.

He almost regrets it. But Kaizuka Inaho is a merciless person.

“I know you don’t have condoms.”

Slaine’s jaw drops. “But -”

He quiets his protesting boyfriend with a chaste kiss.

“...Nn.. _Naho_.” It comes out in a whine. As predicted, that isn’t enough. Slaine’s tongue flicks desperately against his lips so Inaho lets him in, enabling the blond to push him flat against the couch and kiss him hard. The older boy sucks at his lower lip, messy and sloppy, teeth bumping against his as he explores Inaho’s mouth.

Technique doesn’t seem to matter, though - it’s Slaine Troyard on top of him, and that’s all it really takes. Inaho thinks he might be much easier than he lets on, at least when it comes to Slaine.

“I really like you,” Slaine whispers.

“Good to know.”

Slaine’s not a big person by any means, but his shoulders are just a little bit broader and he’s just a little bit stronger. Right now that means everything, and for a moment Inaho feels small and vulnerable and utterly wanton beneath him. He hears himself moan into Slaine’s mouth, and he subconsciously threads his fingers through his boyfriend’s smooth hair and pulls the other boy even further down so he can taste all of him.

He can feel Slaine’s arousal through his jeans and he really wishes he could just have it now, get Slaine to take him right here on the couch. Because Slaine has never been like this, commanding and almost as if he could be in control (though he never will be, as long as Inaho is around). And Inaho thinks maybe he wants to be dominated, just to see how much of a difference it would make.

Bright blue eyes gaze into his own, serious and beseeching. “Please, Inaho? Just today? I'm so hard....”

Even Inaho, with all his self control, can’t help getting a little excited after that; the words make his own cock twitch right up against Slaine’s and his throat tightens as he contemplates the risk versus reward. Slaine always does that to him - he’s just better at hiding it.

He gives his partner a blank look and props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the throb in his pants. He hopes he doesn’t make a mess later. “Not like this.”

The blond turns around with a despondent groan and plants his face into a cushion.

Inaho feels a twinge of guilt. Except not really. “Come here.”

Slaine huffs, and shifts over to rest his head on Inaho’s lap. His cheeks are crimson and Inaho thinks he’d like to do awful things to him, even though he knows that he shouldn’t. He wants them to be as safe as they possibly can. He won’t be able to accept it if Slaine gets hurt from something so easily avoidable.

“Sorry that I forgot,” the other boy says.

“It’s okay.”

Inaho analyzes the sweaty figure, commits it to memory (again), takes a photo. He gently runs his fingers through the blond locks, and rubs soothing circles into the tense shoulders until Slaine’s breathing calms down.

This is nice, too.

“Do you want another blowjob?” Inaho offers casually. He’s gotten better with those. Practice really does make perfect.

Slaine growls into his lap. “I’m going to regret this so much tomorrow.”

“Probably.” Inaho makes a mental note: he is never going to let anyone else see Slaine like this.  
.  
.  
.  
Still, if he’s done his math properly, based on denial principles, their next time is going to be _extremely_ good. And he’ll bring the condoms. What flavour? 

 

* * *

 

**[3.5. canadian wolf]**

Inaho is not happy to discover that he was mistaken.

It’s been two weeks and Slaine has shown no signs of initiating anything. In fact, he’s more reluctant than ever, turning away whenever Inaho tries to kiss him, resisting each and every hint and tease. This is slightly frustrating, now that Inaho knows what Slaine is really capable of, and he wants his boyfriend to do something about it.

He knows that Slaine’s first relationship didn’t go so well, that he got too eager and that they rushed things through. He knows that girl broke his heart and made him afraid to be wrong. So Inaho’s been accommodating, and done his research, and tried to reassure Slaine that he won’t be going anywhere.

But he can’t wait forever.

He’s seated at the coffee table across from Slaine, and has been watching the older boy read through pages of applied biology for the past fifteen minutes. Inaho approves of his boyfriend’s study habits, but he would also like to have sex sometime soon.

And so, it’s time... for that.

Step one: striptease. He thinks that’s what it’s called. It sounded plausible on paper, but he’s not one hundred percent sure. He tried it in front of the mirror earlier, and went through all the motions correctly, so in theory he should be fine. It’s just taking his clothes off, in essence. That’s not hard. Inaho has the vague suspicion that something might be missing, though.

Oh. _Was he supposed to bring music?_ Well, it’s too late to fix that.

He slips his socks off first, nonchalantly, using his feet. Then Inaho stands up, makes his best attempt at a smouldering gaze, which he’s relatively certain just failed, and undoes the first button of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” Slaine asks, glancing up from his textbook to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’m stripping,” he responds, matter-of-factly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. His pants come down next, falling to the floor with a deft movement of his fingers.

He can tell that Slaine is trying not to laugh (but how is this funny?), so Inaho moves on before he loses momentum. He knows he’ll never be able to move his hips and make it look good, but he does have his boyfriend’s undivided attention as he peels his underwear off.

Naked now, he makes his way over to the couch, ready to put Kisaki’s advice to use. Inaho doesn’t do this often, because he doesn’t see a point in anything sexual if Slaine isn’t doing it with him, but he’ll give it a try anyway.

He sucks on his fingers like he’d normally suck Slaine, wet and with extra saliva, and slides them in and out of his mouth one by one. Once his fingers are sufficiently lubricated, he starts to stroke himself, in a calculated sequence of motions specifically designed to set the other boy off. He’s half-hard with anticipation, hoping for Slaine to finish what he started last time.

“Inaho….” A warning. The blond appears to be twitching in his seat, no longer amused.

“Slaine,” he shoots back coolly, sliding his hand along his cock and maintaining an even rhythm.

“That’s enough, okay? You should, um, put your clothes back on while I finish my homework.”

Seeing Slaine get worked up will always be extremely entertaining.

He was exaggerating at first but now he can’t stop, and he quickens his pace, imagines it’s Slaine touching him. The older boy’s eyes are glued to him, his expression a mixture of discomfort and lust. He wonders if Slaine even managed to finish his homework, or if he’s succeeded in distracting him completely.

“Ngh…” Inaho lets out, somewhere between a moan and a gasp, tipping his head back into the couch as he gets close.

“That's it!” Slaine barks, closing his textbook with a resounding slam.

Finally.

Slaine jumps from his seat at the table, his demeanour predatory as he strides over, blue eyes piercing and almost angry.

The blond pulls Inaho up by the arm, and shoves him against the bookshelf so hard that a few textbooks topple to the floor. The impact would hurt if he wasn’t so turned on; it never shows in his face, but he’s positive that Slaine can tell.

The taller boy grinds his hips into Inaho’s, erection rubbing against him through the fabric of his pants. “Please... don’t... do this to me,” Slaine says through heavy breaths, his grip on Inaho’s shoulders tightening with each word. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

Slaine’s kiss is rough and he uses teeth for the first time, nipping at Inaho’s lips, plunging his hot tongue into his mouth without any hesitation. The brunet doesn’t fight it, because this is what he’s been baiting out this whole time, and he won’t let it go to waste.

“Ow,” he says mildly, when Slaine bites a little too hard, but the pain is heady and he doesn’t mind.

In an instant Slaine’s face turns white, and Inaho can already see the apology forming on his lips as he jerks away. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I’ll stop.”

“No!” he hears himself half-shouting, his back still flush against the bookshelf. Not good.

“Do you actually want it like this? Or is this all a joke?” Slaine asks apprehensively. “Because I don’t have that much control.”

“Keep going,” Inaho encourages, suddenly, horribly impatient. “Do anything you like. I can take it. I want you to fu -”

Slaine reddens slightly. “Okay, okay! I get it.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” he tells Slaine, reaching to hold his hand. “I thought I made that clear.”

He hears Slaine breathe a sigh of relief, feels his big hands wrap around his own. “I’m just - I’m just afraid that I’ll ruin things, sometimes. But if that’s how you really feel,” the blond says, a shy smile playing at his lips, “I think I need to show you what a real striptease is first.”

He blinks. What? That’s not part of his plan.

“Stay right here,” Slaine instructs, then steps back a few paces so Inaho has a good view. The blond beams at him. “Ready?”

This is not his normal clumsy Slaine. He’s always so unsure when he touches Inaho, but his hands are much more confident on his own body. There’s something in Slaine’s movements right now, and the way he touches himself, that makes Inaho’s pulse quicken - and he can’t really explain why.

The blond lifts his shirt up inch by inch, revealing the lanky form that Inaho has memorized, all pale skin and lean limbs. He could recite all the details out if he wanted, but it feels like he’s seeing it for the first time.

Slaine sways his hips slowly as he brings his gaze to meet Inaho’s, throwing the blue T-shirt aside with a little laugh. His eyes are sparkling, and he seems to really be enjoying himself.

“Do you want to help me?” the blond whispers, coming in closer, and Inaho can only nod dumbly as he reaches for Slaine’s belt and pulls it through the loops of the other boy’s pants as quickly as he’s able.

His boyfriend pauses to press a kiss to his cheek before continuing, and Inaho has never felt so outmatched. He is strangely grateful that Slaine is not wearing too many layers today.

The jeans come off agonizingly slowly, first slithering down the angular hips, giving Inaho the faintest glimpse of Slaine’s thighs; then lower, lower, one leg after the other. It’s torturous to watch, and he just wants his boyfriend to hurry up.

Slaine’s fingers dip into his underwear, which is all that’s left now, but he doesn’t take it off right away. Inaho can see that his boyfriend is already hard from the way the fabric strains around him, and of course he knows what’s underneath, but he still needs to see it.

“Why are you so good at this?” he asks, unable to tear his gaze away as Slaine slips out of his last piece of clothing. He didn’t know that, didn’t work it into today’s strategy. It doesn’t compute.

His partner chuckles quietly, and circles his arms around Inaho. “I’ve had some practice,” the blond murmurs in his ear. “But yours was very cute.”

Slaine is supposed to be the cute one, though.

The older boy leans down, eyes closing as he melds their lips together. It’s a long kiss, Slaine’s mouth warm and soft. His left hand is cupping Inaho’s jaw, and the other is gently settling onto the curve of his waist. Inaho brushes his hand against the other boy’s stiff cock, noting that despite all his miscalculations today, Slaine wants him just as much as he did their first time.

“Could... you turn around for me?”

Slaine just doesn’t stop being polite, does he? Inaho complies, though, presses his palms into the wooden bookshelf and waits for Slaine to have his way. “No holding back,” he says firmly.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

He’s used to it now, but he can’t quite cover his gasp when Slaine enters him. There’s no reluctance this time. This is the roughest Slaine has ever gotten with him, the most selfish way Inaho has ever been taken, as the blond thrusts deep into him and hits all of his weakest parts.

His boyfriend goes much faster when he’s in this mood, his cock sliding into Inaho right up to the hilt, the rhythm frenetic and unrestrained. It’s the best Inaho’s ever gotten, and for once he comes first, with a throaty little cry, eyes squeezed shut as the surge of pleasure peaks and hits him.

This is the only time they’ve done it like this, and he’s already plotting the next round as he listens to Slaine moan out his name, and feels him tremble against his back. All according to plan, he thinks dimly, because he wants Slaine to know that it’s okay to do this. He won’t break.

The best part is that Slaine only apologized once. Someday, he won’t apologize at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This _whole fic_ started as a joke about Inaho cockblocking because of condoms, but then it turned into 4 chapters, so I’m glad I finally got to write that punchline haha. You know he would! This also calls into question how I get my prompts... most people write sexy sex and I’m like ‘oh lol Inaho and condoms’ what the heck xD I do apologize~ Ty to Nozu for proofreading :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and have a fabulous day!


	4. term paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inaho tries to multitask, & the author abuses the power of words in order to make Slaine a megane for no reason at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the even slower than usual update schedule! I edited this chapter on a plane… under the filename “term paper revision” ahaha  
> Also - check out [Prom Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aTBSQKh8teE) by my fave band ever! Didn’t think I’d actually need to break this song out but uh. So so so cheesy <3 “La-la-la-love me like it’s prom night! I wanna hold you close like it's the very first time~~” SureIna crack works really nicely to chiptune in general :)

**[intermission: sex tips with Tsumugi Yutaro!]**

Inaho is currently having a very enlightening conversation on the fascinating topic of stockings.

“Thigh highs are always a staple, too, generally speaking. But it has to fit the mood. That’s important. Accessories are key. You wouldn’t typically use a garter in a school setting, for example,” Tsumugi Yutaro explains, gesturing to his tablet screen. He’s almost like a professor, providing key examples and backup documentation where needed, like this is an everyday situation for him. University status quo.

“Ah. Got it.” Inaho wonders if he should wear that for Slaine. Or if Slaine could wear that for him. Or if they should both - maybe not.

“But pantyshots are so hard to get… sucks,” the older student laments.

“That’s not a problem with me.”

His dark-haired friend surveys him curiously. “Ordinarily I’d ask you to share details, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

He shrugs. “Well, I’m not sharing.”

They’re doing a quick video study before Inaho’s lab starts, since Yutaro has a long break in between classes and hasn’t found anything more productive to do. Inaho certainly appreciates it, and will utilize this time to the best of his ability.

“Wait.” He leans forward and peers at the screen studiously, resting his elbows onto the black lab bench and folding his hands under his chin. “Pause that frame.”

“Right,” says Yutaro, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose for the thirty-seventh time since Inaho’s seen him today. “That’s a pretty good position. I’ve never had it done to me, though.”

“I think Slaine would like that,” he responds. “Me on top....”

As if on cue, Slaine himself strides into the lab room, his face dangerously pale. For a moment, Inaho is rather concerned. Is it blood loss? Does Slaine need to go to the emergency room? His boyfriend really needs to take better care of himself.

“Maybe I should let you guys talk,” Yutaro pipes cheerfully, powering his tablet off and tucking it under his arm before turning to head out. He grins at Inaho. “Nice chat though. And good luck! Hey, Slaine!”

Slaine smiles awkwardly at Yutaro in polite acknowledgment, then marches over and slides into the seat next to Inaho. He’s trying to stay composed, but Inaho can see the telltale downward slant of his eyebrows and the tiny crease in his forehead. Upon closer inspection, there does not seem to be any fatal blood loss occurring today, though there is clearly some form of trauma.

“Kaizuka Inaho,” the blond hisses, “how many people do you discuss our sex life with?”

For some reason he doesn’t think it would be prudent to say, ‘everyone,’ so he simply picks up his phone and quietly types out Yutaro’s advice for today.

Slaine peers over at the screen, a small frown on his face. “Inaho, do I need to, um, have a chat with your friends?”

He shakes his head as he adds another bullet point to his to-do list. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I want to add this to my database for future reference.”

“I’d rather you just asked me about that stuff, that’s all.”

“Okay,” he says agreeably, turning to face his boyfriend. “So what are you doing here? You don’t have class on Fridays.”

Slaine smacks a hand to his forehead, but doesn’t press any further. “Did you get my text? I just came here to drop this off. You left your calculator at home.” The blond blushes, as he rummages through his bag. “At m-my apartment, I mean.”

“Oh,” Inaho responds, taking his scientific calculator from Slaine’s outstretched hands. “Thanks.” He doesn’t really need it, because he can do most of the math in his head, but that was… nice.

Slaine plants a quick peck on his cheek, then slips his messenger bag back over his shoulder. “This isn’t over, though! We’ll talk later.”

 

* * *

 

**[4. term paper]**

Something is very wrong. He’s only realized now, and it is surprisingly irritating.

“Why are you wearing a turtleneck?” Inaho demands, pausing in the middle of a complicated physics calculation to stare at his boyfriend. “It’s almost summer. You could get heat stroke if you go outside like that.”

Slaine makes a face at him from across the dining table. “You know why.”

“I made a really good mark, though.”

“No, it just looks like I got mauled by a... by a _bear_ ,” the older boy huffs defensively, pulling the collar of his blue sweater down to show Inaho the results of the love bite he was given two days ago. It really stands out against his pale skin, dark red splotches on his neck from where Inaho’s marked him. “You’re incredibly possessive for someone who always seems to be so calm.”

Inaho isn’t particularly fussed. “It looks good,” he tells his boyfriend, with a solemn nod. “You shouldn’t hide it.”

“Well maybe I’ll give you one later so you know how it feels!” Slaine retorts, then returns to typing at his laptop.

A flicker of anticipation. “Try me.”

“Finish your homework first,” his boyfriend sighs, as he puts a pair of reading glasses on - a sign that he’s very serious today.

Slaine’s apartment is usually where Inaho goes to get his homework done. It’s quiet and neat (though mostly because he cleans up), and also perfect for extracurricular activities. There are some things that Yuki-nee doesn’t need to know.

“Hey,” he says, making his way over to the other side of the table and stepping over the power cords that are plugged into the wall. “Can’t we do both at the same time? It’ll be faster.” Inaho slips his hand underneath Slaine’s fuzzy sweater, and he feels the soft skin, absentmindedly brushing his thumb against a nipple and trying to draw out a reaction.

Slaine ignores him. No response at all.

For once the brunet is actually taken aback, and he has to stare at his boyfriend’s stoic, bespectacled face and really think his strategy through.

This could be a problem. Has Slaine built up a resistance to him?

.  
.  
.

...Negative. It’s not possible. He just needs to try a more direct angle.

Without further ado, he kneels at the base of his boyfriend’s chair, and figures he might as well go for it. This way, he won’t have to pressure Slaine to make a move - he’ll just take what he wants right now.

Slaine furrows his brows and his shoulders seem to tense, but he continues to type diligently at his laptop. That won’t last long.

The brunet calmly unbuttons Slaine’s jeans and slides the zipper down without so much as a second thought. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes.”

“Inaho,” Slaine groans, and the brunet decides that he enjoys hearing his name come out of the other boy’s mouth like that. “I can't concentrate if you do that! I told you, this paper is due tomorrow.”

“You’re almost hard,” he states bluntly, watching the growing bulge in his boyfriend’s underwear, “and I didn’t do anything yet.”

“Yet?” Slaine yelps. He adjusts his glasses and eyes his computer. “I have ten more pages to go, Inaho.” A pained smile. “Just wait a little longer! You always make _me_ wait.”

“That’s completely different,” he says, unfazed. “I was running tests on you, but I have all the data I need now.”

“You... are a terrible boyfriend.”

Inaho’s hand finds its way to Slaine’s cock, and he strokes the shaft in the most teasing way possible, lightly skimming his fingers along the length and feeling his boyfriend respond immediately. These days he knows exactly what places to touch, and precisely what kind of pressure to use.

“I know everything about you, though.”

“That’s not fair," the other boy retorts, still typing away at his computer despite his very noticeable discomfort.

Inaho gazes intently at his boyfriend’s arousal, his face right between Slaine’s now-bare thighs. “I studied,” he quips.

“Ahh….” The older boy’s pale skin is flushed pink and he’s already moaning softly for Inaho, though he’s trying to suppress it. “Go... away.”

“You’re at a tactical disadvantage. It would be easier for both of us if you just surrendered, Slaine.” Inaho does not choose battles that he thinks he will lose.

“Is this war, now?” his boyfriend asks, as he fruitlessly attempts to push Inaho away. “I know school is easy for you but this is really important! It’s worth almost fifty percent of my grade!”

He languidly traces his palms along his boyfriend’s thighs as he ponders what to do next. Inaho reaches into his schoolbag for a condom, unabashedly unwraps it, and decides to use his mouth to guide it onto Slaine. It takes him a moment to do it properly, as he balances the rubber between his lips and unrolls it down Slaine’s length, paying no mind to the objections coming from above.

The older boy looks utterly mortified, but his cock is totally rigid in Inaho’s mouth and more than ready to play. “Were you listening to anything I just said? What do you think you're doing?! Today is homework day! _Uugh…_ ”

“I’m multitasking,” he responds easily, stepping out of his pants and reaching for the lube.

He slides himself onto Slaine, running his fingertips along the other boy’s chest as he takes him in all the way. He wraps his thin legs around Slaine’s hips and gets himself settled, toes just barely pressing into the wood-tiled floor.

Inaho gestures with his tablet, which he still has opened to this week’s physics assignment. “See, I’m doing my homework, Slaine. So how fast? Your choice.”

Slaine’s blue eyes are wide with shock, as Inaho straddles him and forces him to lean back into the chair.

“Uhmm!” The blond’s breathing hitches, and Inaho can feel Slaine get harder as he slowly moves his hips. He’s got Slaine where he wants him - uncomfortably turned on - and he is going to savour every second of it.

He takes a look at his assignment, readies his tablet stylus, and sets a slow pace to start. One hand on Slaine, the other on his homework (which he fully intends to complete).

“Is this good?”

“Y-Yes!” Slaine squeaks beneath him. He chews his lip. “You _know_ what I like. And you also know that I don’t have time to be doing this!”

“You definitely have time,” Inaho replies, with utmost confidence, then bends down to press his lips to Slaine’s.

“Mmph - Inaho!” The reproach is palpable. And very satisfying. And Slaine is absolutely kissing him back.

He senses Slaine’s hands moving lower to give him an affectionate squeeze in the spot that only he’s allowed to touch, earning a low hum of approval. It’s not hard to tell what his boyfriend wants. He makes a big deal out of being reluctant, but at the end of it, he’s just as eager as Inaho is. What’s the point of denying it?

Inaho reaches to slip the glasses from Slaine’s face, so he can get a better look at his expression. “I don’t like it when you wear these,” he informs his boyfriend, neatly folding the spectacles and placing them on the table behind him.

“I - I won’t then, if it bothers you so much,” the blond mumbles, ever the pushover.

He picks up the pace. “Good.”

Inaho’s already finished the paper for Slaine, of course - last night, while simultaneously studying the stacks of porn that Calm and Yutaro lent him in the name of important research - but he isn’t going to tell him just yet. Inaho has ascertained that Slaine is far more excitable when he’s feeling stressed.

“I did not invite you over for this purpose,” Slaine mutters, which is true, though he’s panting with desire and his words have no edge. “But I still can’t say no to you.”

Inaho feels a strong arm wrap around his waist as the other boy gives in to him completely, like he always does. Slaine will always make sure that Inaho is safe and comfortable, even if he isn’t, and easily supports his weight on his lap.

He rotates through kissing his boyfriend, calculating trajectories, and updating his grocery list, all the while maintaining a steady rhythm. Maximum efficiency. Maybe he’ll score big today, Inaho muses, and get Slaine to go shopping with him afterward -

“If you’re going to do this, you should pay more attention to me,” Slaine says suddenly, then plucks the tablet out of Inaho’s hand with the hint of a smile on his lips.

At those words, he tightens around Slaine, clamping down on him and trying to get as much friction as possible with every movement. His own arousal is starting to show, cock standing up, pressing lightly against the other boy as he grinds on him. “I was almost done,” Inaho returns, not willing to admit that he can’t actually focus as well as he predicted, anyway.

In spite of himself, his need for Slaine supersedes everything else and he feels unbearably hot, his legs slippery with sweat and his cock agonizingly stiff. Inaho’s dripping with need, precum beading in clear droplets onto Slaine’s sweater and leaving wet patches on the blue knitting.

He clutches urgently at the fabric of his boyfriend’s sweater, gritting his teeth and letting out quiet moans. His thighs are starting to cramp but he has to go faster, faster, take everything that Slaine has to give him. He’s clenching so tight, his body desperate to find its release.

He doesn’t ask but Slaine helps him, thrusts upward on the chair when Inaho gets tired and slides his free hand along the brunet’s cock for him, always making sure he’s getting exactly what he needs. Slaine’s also been paying attention, and knows some things about him, it seems.

“You're doing just fine,” the blond tells him in between kisses, “so relax a little... let me do my part.” His boyfriend gets them to their perfect pace, and strokes Inaho in tandem, grip firm but sensual.

He whimpers softly when he comes, pleasure coursing through his body like tiny jolts of electricity; Slaine shudders beneath him but holds him tight against his chest as he cries out, too.

“I don’t know how you get such amazing grades, acting like this all the time,” the older boy breathes into his ear, but Inaho just silently nuzzles into Slaine’s sweater and doesn’t give him an answer. He thinks he might love Slaine, but he has no idea how to tell him out loud.

“I got your sweater dirty,” Inaho says instead, in his usual monotone. For him, that means almost the same thing, and is much more practical.

“That’s what you're worried about? And not the fact that you - you just sat on me?” Slaine exclaims indignantly.

“Sorry,” he offers unapologetically, then tugs at the thick blue fabric of Slaine’s sleeve. “Take it off. I’ll do the laundry. You probably need to start the machine, anyway. Then we can get groceries and -”

“Oh never mind that, Inaho…”

Slaine pulls him in for another lingering kiss, which isn’t very conducive to doing laundry, but his lips feel so good today that Inaho doesn't want to protest too much.

“I already submitted the paper for you,” he murmurs into the crook of Slaine’s neck. “You don’t need to worry.”

His boyfriend jolts up in the chair, and gives him a scandalized look. “Seriously? Just so that you could -”

“Yeah.”

“Inaho,” the other boy admonishes, tightening his grip around the brunet’s waist as he finally catches on, “you planned all of this.”

“I always have a plan.” Obviously. He tries to wriggle out of his boyfriend’s lap. “I said I’d do laundry.”

But Slaine’s not letting go.

And maybe...  
maybe that’s just fine. It is a very comfortable chair, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wanted to write a calculator delivery scene for years, hooray! Also KisakiYutaroCalm is my OT3 so I made them all give Inaho terrible advice :D go team!  
> I was prepared to end the fic here but I had an _even cornier_ idea (how is that possible) - grumpy over-the-top dramatic SureIna make-up sex bonus round? hmm… I mean that is if anyone is still here ;P


	5. inaho or not, it's all the slaine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inaho screws up, then gets screwed! Slaine is _still_ a huge dork. Better git gud, boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, wrote a weirdly long bonus chapter just so I could steal the beautiful title from that hilariously salty neogaf thread, where I got half of my prompts for previous fics :D I’ve kinda had this chapter sitting in my drive for months, sorry for not feeding you earlier Kai!
> 
> (also I wrote this to Here In Your Arms and Shape of My Heart LEL so please listen to Backstreet Boys while you read, I bet Inaho would really appreciate it) SureIna, _key lime cheesecake_ edition. Please remember that this is crack though. Okey you know the drill!

**[5. inaho or not…]**

He doesn’t understand why Slaine is making such a big deal out of this.

He knows he must have done something wrong, because Slaine’s shaking with fury, and Inaho can tell that he’s trying very hard not to shout. He also knows that Slaine would never actually yell at him, because Slaine is always so nice - too nice for his own good.

Nice isn’t always right, but that’s why Inaho likes him, because they need to balance each other out sometimes. Inaho isn’t nice at all. What’s the point? It doesn’t get results. 

“You never tell me anything, then you just do this?”

“I tell you everything,” he says, nonplussed. “And it’s not like I deleted it permanently. I have the backups at home. Are you crying?”

“Look, I can’t do this right now,” the other boy says, wiping angrily at the corners of his eyes. “You know I’m busy! I don’t have time for this, Inaho. I quit!”

He pauses, and takes a moment to gaze at his boyfriend. “You look really nice today.”

Slaine turns bright red, just like Inaho knew he would, then shoulders his messenger bag and runs off in the opposite direction without saying another word.

“You’re going the wrong way,” he calls out, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Your next class is on the other side of the campus.”

“Sh-Shut up!”

 

* * *

 

“What does it mean when someone tells you that they don’t have time for this, and that they quit?”

His lab partner, Rayet Areash, doesn’t waste words. “By ‘someone’ do you mean Slaine, your _boyfriend?_ I think that means he broke up with you.”

“No,” Inaho responds, rather decidedly, “he would have at least written me a poem if he was going to break up with me… but I wouldn’t accept it, so it wouldn’t be valid.” Besides, he still has a set of keys to Slaine’s apartment, so that can’t be the case.

“What kind of reasoning is that? Actually, what did you do?”

He shrugs. “I just reformatted his laptop, so I don’t know why he got angry.”

“It probably wasn’t only that, you idiot,” his classmate sighs.

“I don’t know what else there is.”

“Maybe because you’re emotionally inept,” Rayet says, setting her feet on the lab bench in front of them. “And annoying. And you stress him out. And you probably didn’t ask him. Not that I care.”

“I am not emotionally inept,” he responds, completely emotionlessly.

“Yes you are!” She scowls at him.

“No I’m not.”

“You’re such an idiot.”

“You said that already. Pass me the spring scales, I’ll do the rest.”

 

* * *

  

**[intermission: ~~sex tips~~ relationship advice with Dorito-san!]**

Slaine did not break up with him. He is confident in this analysis. This is not how breakups go.

Inaho contemplates this, as he waits in line at the cash register to complete his usual evening grocery store excursion.

“You! Kaizuka Inaho!”

Slaine’s friend Eddelrittuo glares at him from across the counter. (She is short and not very intimidating.) Slaine met her through a peer mentorship program, and for some reason that Inaho hasn’t yet determined, they still keep in touch. They had a difficult start at first, but eventually warmed up to each other, a haughty middle school girl and a high school boy trying to get his graduation credits. Eddelrittuo met Slaine before Inaho did, and she holds it over him every time they talk.

But perhaps it would be a good idea to ask, since she’s here. “Have you seen Slaine? I didn’t know you worked at this store.”

“You’re so stupid,” the younger girl says, by way of greeting. “You think you know _so_ much, and then you have to ask me for help.”

“You’re still in high school,” he points out, setting his groceries down, “so I do technically know more than you.” Teens.

"That doesn’t mean anything!” Eddelrittuo huffs, scanning Inaho’s carefully-selected flat of eggs and setting it on the conveyor belt. “Do you want a bag for that?”

“Sure.”

“I can’t believe you’re here, going shopping like nothing’s wrong!” the seventeen year old girl snaps at him, violet eyes flashing with a tiny spark of anger. “After you made him cry!”

How does she even know that that happened?

“I’ll fix it,” he promises, and it’s the truth.

“Well then,” she responds, with an innocent smile, “you’d better let him screw you until you can’t think.”

Inaho hands her cash to pay for his groceries. “That’s kind of cryptic, isn’t it? Is that what he taught you in the mentorship program? I don’t think that’s part of the curriculum.”

“Back to the point, Kaizuka! He’s too good for you,” the younger girl declares, ignoring his question.

“I know,” Inaho says, with what is supposed to be _absolute burning conviction,_ “but I’m still going to get him back.”

 

* * *

  

**[5.5. ...it’s all the slaine]**

He hasn’t really run since physical education class, because he hasn’t had to. Applied math doesn’t require too much physical exertion. But Inaho is on a mission.

At the train station. Obviously.

“Slaine!” he shouts, sprinting as fast as his feet will take him, fully aware that this is the most uncomfortably sentimental he’s ever been. Surely there is a more practical way to chase his boyfriend down than this. He didn’t program a personalized GPS tracking app for no reason.

For the first time in his life, Inaho thinks he feels fear. He’s strangely terrified, and there’s an unsettling plummeting feeling in his stomach as he realizes how important Slaine is to him, how deeply rooted and central the other boy is to his life - how so much seems to revolve around him.

He trips on the platform and Slaine’s there to catch him, his hand closing over Inaho’s own. He’s never been so scattered. It’s disorienting and there is nothing neat about the way things are progressing.

Slaine gives him an odd look. “What are you doing here?” he asks, but he doesn’t let go of Inaho’s hand. “Um. Are you all right?”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Inaho pants, straightening his stance and giving Slaine’s hand a squeeze. “Eddelrittuo said I’d find you here, and that I should….”

“I’m just going home,” the taller boy says, still in that confused tone.

The train is getting crowded and Slaine pulls him close to his chest like he always does, although Inaho has stated on several occasions that he hasn’t been attacked on a train in his entire life, that even though he may be short he is still twenty years old, that even Yuki-nee isn’t this overprotective anymore, and that quite frankly there is no point.

“Let go,” he says as a result, wriggling a bit.

Unfortunately Slaine might be even more stubborn than Inaho is, and remains immovable. “Not until you explain yourself.”

It’s still nice to be close, though, and he takes advantage of the opportunity, leaning in to breathe in the warm scent that he’s missed (for approximately half a day). Slaine smells much nicer than the rest of the train, musky but clean, like fresh laundry and biology nerd.

“I can’t believe you followed me....” the blond mutters, his arms still wrapped snugly around Inaho’s waist.

“I should have just tracked the GPS on your phone,” he admits. “Or waited at your apartment.”

“Creepy,” the blond mumbles. He is clearly still angry about this morning.

“It would have been easier than running after you.” This is why Inaho does not typically take advice from teenage girls who hate him, but he was pressed for time and it seems to be working out quite well for him at the moment. (However, he still doesn’t know what Slaine can possibly see in Eddelrittuo. And she made him put his eggs back, after all that.) “This is your stop, by the way.”

They edge their way out of the train car as the doors slide open, and fall into step together, stride for stride.

“So you’re just going to follow me home?” Slaine says, glancing down at him. “That’s your plan.” He looks so tall and poised, in stark contrast to his high-strung disposition from this morning. He also looks very good in cardigans, Inaho notes, saving the information for later.

“I don’t have any other options.”

The blond shrugs, holding the lobby door open for Inaho when they reach his apartment building. “Guess not,” he mutters.

The elevator ride up to the twenty-second floor is awkward at best, as Inaho attempts to put his sentences together.

“So talk,” Slaine says, arms crossed over his chest. He’s trying to be indifferent now, but Inaho knows better than to fall for that. Slaine doesn’t have very good bluffs.

“I’m…” he starts, “sorry.” He takes a breath, trailing after his boyfriend as they make their way down the hall. “And I think I love you.”

“Wait, w-what? Where did that come from?” the taller boy sputters, his composure shattered instantly. Inaho watches mechanically as Slaine fishes his house key out of his pocket and twists it in the door of his apartment. Slaine is no good at this game.

“I’ll say anything you want me to say, even if it’s some clichéd line that doesn’t even make logical sense unless you’re exceptionally well versed in literary terminology. I’ll crossdress, I’ll wear skirts and stockings and... platform heels if that equates to better communication skills.”

Slaine turns around to face him, slack-jawed. “I thought I told you not to worry about this stuff, Inaho. That’s not important to me at all, even - ugh - even if it _would_ be cute!”

Interesting reaction. Mixed message, though.

“Just get inside,” the blond sighs, grabbing Inaho by the jacket sleeve and hastily shutting the door behind them. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“I’m sorry,” Inaho repeats, standing with his back to the wall. If he says it enough, maybe Slaine will believe him. They can both be incredibly persistent, in their own ways. He isn’t the sort of person who apologizes in the first place. He doesn’t have anything to be sorry for. “I’ll remember to ask you next time. About the laptop. And I’ll fix it now.”

“Inaho.”

“And I have been trying, I tell you more than I tell Yuki-nee -”

“Inaho….” Slaine sounds doubtful.

He’s rambling now, no longer able to filter his words. It all comes out of his mouth awkwardly and disjointedly. He’s at a loss, struggling to convince Slaine to please stay with him, and he feels startlingly unintelligent in the process. There is no logic to anything that he’s saying, and he’s never been so unprepared.

Inaho doesn’t know how to give big flowery speeches or profess his love in sweeping poetic gestures; the practicality of such actions escapes him completely. But those are things that Slaine likes, and probably wants to hear from him even if he doesn’t ask outright, because everyone says that Slaine is so _romantic,_ and better than he deserves anyway.

So he doesn’t hold anything back, and decides, based on the stats, that at least one of the things he says will make it right.

Probably.

He blurts it out again. “I love you?” This time it comes out as a question.

Slaine’s lips are on his before he can say anything else, sweet and chaste, almost as if (or maybe, specifically) to shut him up.

“I wasn’t done,” he says, so Slaine kisses him again. A please-shut-the-heck-up-Inaho kiss. Which, incidentally, means no tongue.

“Inaho, just listen to me! It’s okay! You don’t have to say that sort of stuff if you’re not comfortable…. It’s a strong word.” The blond stares down at his feet. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

Slaine hasn’t said it before, either.

“But it’s true. And I read that it’s better to be open about your feelings, which theoretically means saying things like that all the time, although I don’t see a realistic application for it. I know you wanted me to, so I did. I’m going to tell you everything, every day, if that’s really what you need to hear.”

“Well,” Slaine stammers shyly, rubbing his forehead as if he has a migraine, “that’s not what I meant this morning.”

“Then what’s the problem?” It’s difficult to admit, but he really doesn’t know.

They’re not the sort of couple that fights a lot, but once in a while Slaine snaps and Inaho has to figure out why, puzzle it over for hours until he reaches a logical conclusion. A lot of math is involved. And decision trees. And spreadsheets with perfectly concatenated formulas. He even made pivot tables and bar graphs to produce visual breakdowns of his data. And then, of course, there are the actual confessions where he skirts around the words and stumbles even though he’s usually so sure about everything. Because he didn’t think he needed to practice that.

And yet Slaine can be unpredictable, refusing to conform one-hundred percent to Inaho’s estimations.

“Sometimes you seem to take me for granted, that’s all! You know I’ve been really stressed lately, so I kind of exploded at you this morning. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. But you just… don’t always think about other people’s feelings. You keep pushing and pushing until someone breaks. And you tell me _stuff,_ I guess, but not a lot about yourself.”

“I don’t take you for granted,” Inaho says slowly. “You’re the most reliable person in my life. I just - can’t express it.”

“I know it’s really hard for you,” his boyfriend admits. “But it drives me crazy.”

“I’ll work on it. I’m trying.” Inaho toes his shoes off and follows Slaine into the kitchen. “Also,” he adds, now that he has some momentum, “we don’t have to have sex, but we probably should.”

Slaine turns pink. “I’m - I’m still mad, Inaho! Absolutely... furious.” He smiles grudgingly, though, and Inaho knows he’s been forgiven.

“My point still stands, then,” he says, as Slaine leans into him and rests his chin on his shoulder.

“Umm,” the blond mumbles, circling his arms around Inaho’s shoulders, “right now? Only if you want to....”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Inaho quips, tilting his head up for a kiss. “You need to use that energy somehow.”

Slaine tightens his grip. “Please don’t ever say that again!”

“Then don’t run away from me again.”

“...Where are you getting these lines?” his boyfriend exclaims. “How - oh, forget it.”

He’s mostly ready, as Slaine scoops him up in his arms, navigates them through the small apartment to the bedroom, and all but throws him onto his mattress. He lands with a soft thud, barely able to sit up on the thin cotton sheets, when Slaine is on him again, fumblingly eager, pressing needy kisses to his jaw and running his big hands along Inaho’s slender frame.

The blond gazes down at him, wisps of fair hair falling askance. His hands are sinking into the mattress, fingers spread evenly to keep his balance as he straddles Inaho’s hips.

“We’re not doing this because I want you to prove something, Inaho. I’m... I’m already yours, so that hasn’t changed.”

That’s good, he thinks.

“We’re doing this because I _like_ you, and this is... all of me.” Slaine bites his lip. “A-And you know I’m not going to leave you. You know I was never going to do that. I was just so angry and exhausted and I needed to think, but it’s not worth it if it ends up like this and you end up saying such weird things. But I really am still mad!” his boyfriend insists, with a sheepish little laugh. “And I don’t want to hurt you because of something stupid like that. You don’t need to rush this every time.”

“That’s fine, I told you before - I’m not exactly fragile. We do it rough, sometimes.”

“Never like this,” Slaine protests, red in the face as usual, “never after a fight.”

So Inaho grabs Slaine by the elbow and yanks him down; the other boy topples onto him with a startled yelp and he steals a kiss in the confusion, tongue flicking out to taste his boyfriend’s soft lips. He’s restless. “I wouldn’t really categorize this as a fight.”

Slaine needs a lot of prompting, but Inaho knows which buttons to press.

“Mm….”

Slaine’s hands twine in his and now they’re just kissing, and it’s nice to not have to attempt to explain himself with words anymore. Feelings are unquantifiable and unreliable. This is more tangible.

“So.” The blond hesitates. Inaho can feel Slaine straining against him through his jeans as they trade wet kisses.

“Do it,” he says firmly, without blinking. “I dare you.”

“You can’t just say things like that,” Slaine growls against his mouth, teeth grazing his lower lip. “You might regret it.”

At the end of the day, Inaho kind of prefers it when Slaine is mad, and he tells him this, with a very serious expression on his face.

Slaine smiles, and shakes his head. “You really are the cutest, you know.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, raising himself up on his elbows to face the other boy expectantly, “I’m very cute.” He is if he has to be. Slaine’s wrong, of course, but he can’t argue when his boyfriend is in the mood.

“Even when you chase me home, confess to me, and then proposition me right after,” the blond continues, inching forward so the heavy fabric of his pants brush against Inaho’s face. “Are you ready?”

He reaches to undo Slaine’s belt, then pulls the familiar length out of his boyfriend’s jeans without a second thought. “Ready,” he says, and takes Slaine in his mouth to prove it, like he’s done so many times, lips kneading the sensitive head with just enough pressure to keep the other boy on edge.

Slaine slides deeper into his mouth, sighing when Inaho curls his tongue around the shaft. “You’re so good at this…” the blond groans, as Inaho takes him in as far as he can and swallows carefully. He gags a little before he adjusts, his throat tight on Slaine’s saliva-slicked cock.

Slaine strokes his hair roughly, fingers twisting around the thick strands of brunet locks and pulling hard. Inaho almost comes just from being touched like that, just from having Slaine treat him like an object. He knows he’ll be on the receiving end of a torrent of apologies tomorrow, but right now he is perfectly content to give Slaine full control.

His boyfriend usually isn’t so forceful, but he doesn’t mind as Slaine shoves his thick cock into his mouth, pushing deeper, thrusting deep into his throat at a steady pace and violating his face in the best way.

Inaho wants to devour him.

He moans quietly around his boyfriend, saliva spilling from his mouth while he fights to keep it all inside.

“I-Inaho, I’m really close…” Slaine grips the brunet’s hair as he convulses; his cock is tense in Inaho’s mouth, the flesh growing taut when he comes. Inaho can feel the throb of his boyfriend’s climax, from his lips to his tongue to the back of his throat.

He swallows as much as he can, growing aroused on Slaine’s bitter taste. Some of it dribbles out of his mouth, and he’s angry with himself for not being perfect this time - he should have been more prepared, how does anyone make this kind of error when the outcome for failure could be so disastrous?

Slaine just stares at him blankly, and as Inaho catches his breath, he realizes he’s lying on his back with cum dripping down his face: affirmative, he was unsuccessful.

“You’re…. really hot when you let me do that.”

Slaine likes that? He blinks, confused, though he's still outwardly composed. His throat is raw and sore, his scalp tingles from where Slaine’s grabbed him, and he is horribly turned on.

“Oh God, was it too much, I -”

“I want you,” he says, before Slaine can apologize. It’s definitely not the sexiest tone of voice that Inaho could have mustered, and therefore unmistakably him. 

“And you’ll have me,” Slaine assures him, in a rather more mood-fitting way.

His boyfriend is still so clumsy after all the times they’ve done it, and they’re both equally impatient, Inaho helping Slaine discover the finer points of unbuttoning (yet again) and Slaine introducing Inaho to the practicality of wearing regular T-shirts.

Inaho wriggles out of his slacks to reveal his own hardness, swollen and erect, ready for stimulation. With trembling hands, Slaine caresses the soft curves of the brunet’s waist, then slips his fingers into the fabric of Inaho’s underwear and teases it down his hips. He lifts his legs so Slaine can slide the cotton off for him, and lets his clothes fall to the floor. He’ll make sure he does laundry first thing in the morning.

Then Slaine pins him down by the wrists, and he’s held in place by his boyfriend’s weight, relishing the new sense of vulnerability. He’s a little anxious, though, because he has to get this part right. Slaine’s eyes are clouded with lust, and Inaho feels a thrill of anticipation run through his body as the blond’s fingers move lower to play with his entrance. 

“Hmm.”

“You can go ahead,” Inaho prompts, lifting his hips up off the mattress.

“You’re so nervous today,” Slaine says, peering down at him with an amused expression. He sounds mildly surprised. “I know we haven’t done it in a while, but you’re really tense here, Inaho. Did you honestly think I, uh, I was just going to go for it? It’s not the same as a blowjob. I’m mad but I’m not a jerk! Are you crazy?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he responds tonelessly, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t mind. This is for you.” He usually likes to prep in advance, but he’s not going to break in half if things get a little rough.

Slaine chuckles. He has an incomprehensible sense of humour. “You’re so weird! _Relax_ for me, then?”

The blond has him settle onto a pillow in a fit of unnecessary concern, and Inaho obediently turns over to lie down on his front, knees pressing into the mattress and hips raised slightly into the air. He isn’t embarrassed, because Slaine’s seen everything already, but he isn’t sure what comes next. He knows for a fact that Slaine hates this position - his boyfriend is almost always insistent about seeing his face, so this is an interesting change.

Slaine’s warm hands glide over him, still a little shyly, roaming upward along Inaho’s legs, massaging the slim thighs before reaching in between to touch him.

“What are you doing?” For once Inaho is flustered, when he feels Slaine’s mouth where it shouldn’t be. “Is that normal? I didn’t have it on my list - s-stop it.”

“Like you can tell me that!” Slaine says. “After all the stuff I let you get away with.” He seems discouraged, though. “I mean, I won’t do it, if you honestly don’t like it. Am I really that bad at this?”

Inaho fidgets, face buried into the pillow. “It’s good,” he replies, as calmly as possible considering his breathing has become unnaturally strained, “but not necessary.” He’s not used to being on the receiving end like this, unless it’s per his own instructions.

“Ugh, you are so going to get it!”

“Ohh….” he mumbles, the breath catching in his throat when Slaine’s tongue flicks against him again, teasing slow, slow circles around the bundle of sensitive nerves. Inaho hugs the pillow to his chest and trembles, doing his best to stay composed and reminding himself that if Slaine wants to do this, he should let him.

Slaine slides a lubed hand along Inaho’s cock as he continues to gently lick and kiss him, making sure that he is being attended to in every way. “Ah,” his boyfriend hums against him, his breath coming out in warm puffs of air on the delicate skin.

It’s a huge turn on, knowing that Slaine is tasting him, and there’s that first-time unfamiliarity that makes this even more exciting. He arches outward to give his boyfriend better access, toes curling as the pleasure overtakes him.

Slaine pushes the tip of his tongue inside him, and for a second all Inaho sees are flashes of white. He’s dizzy, nearing the peak of pleasure, precum dripping onto his pillow as his pulse quickens.

“Mm…!” Inaho wants Slaine to take him immediately, and he’s starting to decide that this is actually very nice -

“Soft…” Slaine says, squeezing him fondly, nuzzling into him and dropping quick kisses on his thighs before he pulls back.

“Whatever,” the brunet mumbles into his pillow, not keen to admit that he is feeling strangely self-conscious. A foreign emotion. That’s generally Slaine's area of expertise. Isn’t it?

Slaine’s fingers slide into him now, wet with lube, carefully working themselves in one by one. Inaho clamps down on each slender digit, conditioning himself to the size and shape. He’s not resisting anymore, but Slaine is taking his time, only making small movements, mindful to stay within his comfort zone.

“Good?” Slaine asks. “Remember to breathe.” He pumps Inaho shallowly with two fingers. It’s just enough to make him moan, but hardly enough to satisfy him. Slaine is angry - and a tease to boot, touching him in his weakest areas, driving him to his limit, but never once letting him come.

“Please.” His voice is raspy, his knees are buckling under. He needs it.

“Sorry, Inaho,” the blond says, as he pulls his fingers out. “You’re not… allowed.”

This is infuriating. Slaine has _never_ denied him anything.

“You’ve been humouring me all along,” Inaho accuses suddenly, sitting up so he can stare his boyfriend down. “You didn’t do any of this before. I thought I knew everything, but you’ve been holding back. I didn’t know you were so mean.”

Slaine smiles guiltily. “Well, you were so cute, trying your best... that’s just as much of a turn on for me. I didn’t want to interrupt you too much, I know you like making those data sheets.”

But now the data is inaccurate, and Inaho will have to redo all of his tests anyway.

“So you were just pretending that I was good at this. Even now?” He’s not sure anymore. He doesn’t know how to catalogue this situation. Is Slaine just so unbelievably polite that he would rather pretend to enjoy it regardless of his actual feelings?

“It’s not like that at all! You’re overreacting,” Slaine protests, speaking much more loudly than Inaho is.

“I don’t overreact to anything,” he says levelly. It’s hard to make a convincing argument when he’s still so desperate to come, but he’s managing somehow. (Slaine is not helping.)

“You can always tell when I’m lying, so why would I bother faking anything? It’s… it doesn’t really matter as long as it’s with you,” Slaine mumbles out of the side of his mouth, “so I prefer to go at your pace. You do what you want, and I’ll follow. I’m happy as long as you’re comfortable. I just thought I’d try improvising today.” He laughs nervously. “I told you, we really need to talk more.”

“We should do it your way. You always make excuses.”

Slaine leans forward, gripping Inaho’s shoulders tight. “Do I?” he breathes, pushing him back down into the mattress. The last thing the blond tells him before they really start is, “Fine, Inaho - you’re mine. I won’t go slow.”

Which is perfect, really, even though he’s rather certain he’s never been quite so vocal or gasped quite so many times when he’s done this with Slaine. His knuckles are white as he clutches at the sheets, has Slaine use him and take out all his frustration from this week.

Slaine sinks into his tight entrance, sliding in deep with a smooth, practiced motion. He’s not so tense now, with Slaine finally inside him (where he belongs), but he can’t help the little moan that escapes his lips.

It hurts just a little because Slaine really is going hard and fast, but he has to focus on making sure his boyfriend feels good first. Slaine already gave him a lot of time to adjust. He’s so malleable in Slaine’s hands, muscles squeezing in time to his rhythm as he gets utterly impaled. So that’s what the pillows are for.

It’s easy to be with Slaine, and in some inexplicable way or another they just fit together. He is definitely going to feel this tomorrow, but he’s not too concerned - he wants this instant gratification, and he wants to be right here with his boyfriend.

Also, he wants to have his orgasm at some point within the next ten minutes.

He smiles softly up at the blond, which is difficult enough as it is, because he’s still Kaizuka Inaho, after all. He can tell that Slaine needs him so he keeps him close and wraps his legs around the other boy’s hips, and kisses him as many times as he needs to in order to tell him that he loves him without using any words (because saying that was embarrassing, and apparently seems to have caused him some amount of stress).

His nails dig into the taut muscles of Slaine’s back and he ponders hazily, is biology really that physically demanding? Physics isn’t. What does Slaine do in his spare time anyway? He’ll have to look into that in finer detail.

He’s so distracted thinking about the nuances of Slaine’s daily activities, that he doesn’t notice what his boyfriend is doing with his mouth until he’s already reacting.

He presses his head into the pillow and arches upward automatically, muscles clenching in response to the blond’s touch. “Nnh!” Inaho’s mewling, soft keening noises escaping him, high-pitched and wanting.

“Huh? That’s new,” Slaine remarks, with a faint trace of a smirk. “Could you do that again?”

Inaho doesn’t turn red like his boyfriend would, but he knows he’s getting flustered now. “Stop flirting,” he orders, then promptly whimpers when Slaine finds his pleasure spot again, lips brushing against his ear and sending exquisite shivers through his body. “S-Slaine!” he whines through his teeth, and he wonders what the point of being smart is if he’s going to sound so stupid anyway.

“So tight…” the older boy groans, slowing the pace of his movements while Inaho writhes beneath him.

Slaine bites down gently on his earlobe, and Inaho hears himself cry out helplessly as he shudders and feels the blood rush straight down. What is going on? He can’t think at all, and his senses are overloaded with pleasure. It feels too good. There’s sweat everywhere now, running down his face, coating the backs of his legs, making him uncomfortably hot and aroused.

“I always wondered about that,” his boyfriend says, then laughs lowly, the vibrations from his voice just grazing the edge of Inaho’s ear. The brunet stifles his moans, lips stubbornly compressed to a thin line. “It’s cute.”

Inaho is glad that he is more or less incapable of blushing. “You....” His frustration is thinly veiled, and for a moment he feels childish and sullen.

The blond bends down to kiss him on the forehead, immediately contrite. “I’m sorry for teasing you so much. You’ll be good, right?”

“I promise,” he says, squirming a little. “I’ll - I’ll be so good.” He’s accepted that he’s got no leverage. Besides, he’s so hard he thinks he might lose his mind.

Although, of course, that is technically impossible.

Slaine grins playfully at him and resumes his pace from before, and the way he’s moving is so _hot_ and determined and - and - well, Inaho needs him, badly. “Are you going to come for me?”

“Harder,” he manages to gasp out, even though Slaine’s already going faster than he’s used to.

“Seriously?” the other boy pants, eyebrows lifting in surprise. His voice is hoarse, and Inaho can feel the sweat collecting where their skin makes contact. “Do you like being treated like this?”

Yes. Yeshedoes.

“It’s okay to be a little selfish,” Inaho says, just as breathlessly, pumping his dripping cock and sighing as Slaine thrusts into him steadily. “Nnn…! Just like that.”

“You’re the selfish one,” the blond replies, with an affectionate smile.

“I know. But I’ll make it up to you.”

Slaine slams into him harder than he’s ever done before, relentless with his pace; Inaho’s more eager than usual, squeezing, greedy for every inch, wanting to be filled completely.

His eyes close shut and he rakes his fingernails across Slaine’s skin as a loud half-scream involuntarily escapes him - “Ahh… Ahh - _Slaine!_ ” He tries to muffle his voice, to no avail, and his hips buck up frantically as he climaxes. Then he is very quiet, trembling in the aftermath, while his boyfriend holds him close.

(Kaizuka Inaho doesn’t scream, ever. Slaine won’t let him forget this anytime soon.)

Right now Slaine’s whispering nonsense into his ear, but from his tone Inaho concludes that it must be a good kind of nonsense, the kind of nonsense that starts with “I love you” and ends with “God, what would I do without you.”

He doesn’t have anything particularly clever to say to that so he just murmurs, “Get your degree in animal biology, I guess.”

 

* * *

 

Slaine is coiled around him, his lanky body spooned against Inaho’s, his lean arms holding him protectively against the firm chest. Inaho can feel every heartbeat, every breath, every little movement that he makes. He allows himself to give in to the embrace, and melds into the contours of his boyfriend, happy and warm and satisfied. Slaine’s quiet now, just tracing lazy circles with his thumb across the back of Inaho’s hand and leaving tired kisses along the slope of his shoulder.

It’s here, nestled in Slaine Troyard’s arms, that Inaho has his epiphany: _make-up sex is absolutely the best._ It’s better than birthday and anniversary sex combined. And he’s half-smiling, rubbing against his sleepy boyfriend, hinting ‘there’s going to be so much more tonight, isn’t there’ because that’s exactly what's going to happen. In precisely two hours. He’ll let him rest for now.

Maybe it would be worth it to start a few more arguments, if this is the sort of payout he can expect to get. He makes a mental note, for the New Slaine Database.

Slaine runs a hand along the brunet’s thigh, strokes his smooth curves with the flat of his palm. His short nails dig lightly into the soft skin, and his breath tingles hot against Inaho's ear.

“Don’t… even… think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I think that’s enough trash for one fic ^__^)/ Slaine had a feast! Also yeah I just wanted Inaho to say “I’ll be so good ;~;” because I’m horrible :D  
>  ~~so senpai when’s the skirtNaho pwp NOT THIS LIFETIME~~


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